In case you hadn’t heard, it’s hot here.
I feel like I post way too much about the temperatures in our area, but I continually find myself in awe when I look at my phone to discover the heat index has reached 114 degrees F, like today.
Even inside with the air cons on, it feels like an oven.
My favorite lipstick – that was in a room with the air con on – melted yesterday.
Today I was going to bake a chicken casserole for dinner and the cheese melted on top before I even put it in the oven to bake.
The local news is blaming El Nino for the crazy, extreme temperatures, but excuses don’t make it any cooler, ya know?
I decided to escape the heat from within today and climbed up to the roof of our house for some relief. We have a flat roof with a railing around the edges, so it’s safe to walk around up there. The moment I opened the hatch and pulled myself up through the small opening, I felt a pleasant breeze blowing.
It was about 6:00 p.m. and the sun was just beginning its final descent. The orange, yellow and purple hues in the sky contrasted against the green of the palm trees as far as the eye could see.
The half-finished apartment buildings currently under construction in our neighborhood, towered above the streets with their various shades of paint colors – mauve, peach and crimson being the apparent favorite choices – adding an unusual mosaic effect to the picturesque view.
The meditative chanting emanating from a nearby monastery was calming and provided a tranquil backdrop, muting any sounds of cars or buses from the main roads.
It was so peaceful and serene, and I found myself captivated by the beauty of it all as the stresses of the day faded away.
While the light departed and evening arose, the sounds of kids on the street riding bikes and playing soccer bubbled up from below. I could hear women nearby clinking their pots and pans, preparing their dinner over their wood burners outside. There were other sounds, like water splashing from a neighbor taking their evening bath – most of the homes on our street don’t have indoor plumbing, so they bathe outside near their water tanks.
Briefly disconcerting was the scuffling sound I heard that drew my attention to a tree in our neighbor’s yard with a big rat climbing up one of the branches into the rafters of their bamboo home. I quickly scanned around our own house to make sure there were no branches from any tree touching any part of our house. Once I was secure in our own varmint-free environment, I returned to my placid state.
For a minute, I felt like I was in a movie. Looking out I could see for miles, and the amazing view amidst the lulling sounds of the monks’ chanting was surreal.
I kept thinking to myself, “I wish everyone could experience this place.”
Sure it’s hot and the language is hard and finding any type of comfort or convenience is a challenge, but in that moment, I just felt so unbelievably blessed.
In a few months, our family will celebrate five years in the overseas service of our Father.
And this evening as I stood surveying this place that we call home and recalling the experiences of these five years, I couldn’t help but be thankful.
And I just had to share it.
I so wish more people from home would come visit this phenomenal place, but for now, I’m thankful to just be able to share this amazing adventure. And maybe you’ll find some reason for being thankful for wherever you are. 
